


Let it snow

by writworm42



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Cohabitation, Domestic Fluff, Drabble, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Lover's Quarrel, M/M, Snowed In, there is no purpose to this fic other than i want it to be winter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-27 21:00:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20766869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/pseuds/writworm42
Summary: The weather outside is frightful, and Vanessa is getting really restless.





	Let it snow

**Author's Note:**

> I really like winter okay
> 
> Thank you Holtz for betaing, ily <3

“I swear to God, if it don’t let up soon, Imma go crazy.” Vanessa sighs, casting a forlorn look outside as she leans her head up against the kitchen window, the frozen glass cold and wet against her temple. 

“You’re already crazy, baby.” Brooke doesn’t even look up from her magazine, although the ghost of a smile flickers across her face. 

“Bitch--”

“If you’re so bored, why don’t you find something to do? You could read, or watch something, or practice your look…”

“_ Boring. _ ” Vanessa sighs, collapsing back down onto the table. “I wanna go _ outside_, B.” 

“Then go outside.”

For a moment, the urge to smack the magazine right out of Brooke’s hand is so strong that Vanessa almost has to hold her own hands down. 

At first, it had been cute--they had snuggled under a plush blanket Brooke had stowed away in her closet, draped in oversized sweatshirts and leaving hot-chocolatey kisses on each others’ lips. They’d made love until Brooke swore that her dick might break if Vanessa spent any more time milking it. They’d even spent time baking sugar cookies from scratch, so buttery and sweet that they were licking their hands all afternoon.

But that’s the thing--that was one afternoon.

Now, it’s day three, and there’s no end to their siege in sight.

“I hate Toronto.” Vanessa huffs, standing up from the table before she can see the flash of hurt in Brooke’s eyes. She stomps over to their bedroom, slamming the door behind her before collapsing into bed.

Vanessa knows she’s being a spoiled brat. She knows Brooke doesn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of her frustration, and that Brooke is trying even harder than she is to make the best of a bad situation. But that’s little comfort to her right now, while she’s stuck burrowing under the covers instead of doing something, _ anything _, away from the confines of their apartment.

When Brooke had asked her to move in with her, to move back to Toronto with her, it had seemed like such a good idea. No more long-distance, no more LA traffic, no more days so hot that it was exhausting just to breathe. No more going to sleep without Brooke by her side. Sure, their life is just as unstable, just as busy with tours and hopping from venue to venue, a new show every night, but at the very least, they can retreat to somewhere outside of the States, somewhere they can make a home. Somewhere Brooke is painted on every corner, where Vanessa is slowly weaving herself into the fabric of, too. 

But days like this--_ weeks _ like this--are something Vanessa has never had to deal with before, and it makes her miss home, miss her friends and her favourite restaurants. She even misses the heat, because at the very least, when it’s hot you can go outside at night when it becomes cooler.

And what is Brooke doing, acting all irritable, anyway? Brooke knows this is the first time Vanessa’s ever been cooped up this long, and knows how antsy it makes her--why can’t she have some compassion, for God’s sakes? 

Vanessa brings a hand to her eyes and wipes the tears that roll down her face, onto her pillow, the now damp-fabric as cold as it is outside. 

Fuck.

Somehow, the tears don’t stop coming. In fact, they start to fall faster, uncontrollably, seeping through Vanessa’s fingers and obscuring her vision. She’s so lost in the frustration of being unable to stop that she doesn’t notice the door opening until there’s a sudden pressure on the bed, the noise of it creaking, then a furry lump deposited on her chest. 

Henry licks the tears from her face, and when she looks up, Brooke is there, her face remorseful. 

“I’m an asshole.” Brooke chews her lip, and despite herself, Vanessa gives a little laugh.

“Yeah, bitch, you sure is.” She reaches down and strokes along Henry’s back, calmed by his rumbling purr and weight on her body. “I’m sorry too, B. I’m just…”

“Bored.” Brooke nods. “I know.”

There’s silence for a moment, Vanessa still stroking Henry and Brooke reaching out to stroke Vanessa’s hair in turn. Vanessa turns a grabby hand towards Brooke, who laughs before shimmying under the covers, pulling Vanessa close.

“You know, there’s one winter thing we didn’t try yet.” Brooke says suddenly, kissing Vanessa on the forehead with a gentle smile. 

“What’s that?” Vanessa smiles back, a spark of excitement suddenly lighting in her chest. She should be hesitant--for all she knows, it’ll be just as quick as all the others, and she’ll be back in boredom within the afternoon. Still, even that is better than stewing in self-pity in bed, so she listens intently, letting her anticipation grow. 

“Winter naps.” Brooke winks, grinning, “In the middle of the day.” 

“Brock--”

“Shut up,” Brooke kisses Vanessa again, a hand snaking down to Vanessa’s sweats and cupping her dick through the fabric, “And let me put you to sleep.”

Suddenly, a nap becomes a much more appealing option, and by the time they wake up, still sated with post-orgasmic bliss, the blizzard has finally come to a stop, the earth at a chilled, snowy still.

“So, you want to build your first snowman?” Brooke's smile is mischievous, the twinkle in her eyes growing even brighter when Vanessa nods.

“Long as it gets me out the house, I’ll build whatever you want me to, bitch.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
